What Really Should Have Happened
by Brithna
Summary: What really should have happened...in my opinion anyway.


Title: What Really Should Have Happened

Author: Brithna

Beta: Peetsden

Fandom: Devil Wears Prada

Rating: M

Summary: What really should have happened-in my opinion anyway.

Note: So my friend had a nightmare. And me being me – I will do pretty much anything to make this woman feel better. Anything. Including cracking some jokes about a guy named Bernie…and it worked. In light of that I thought I would write the story down and give it to her as gift. So—here's your gift G! I love you!

_**What Really Should Have Happened**_

He's late. Why is he late? Miranda checked her watch again for what seemed like the millionth time in the past few seconds. Ten past nine. Did the man really not know how to be punctual? You'd think after what he was doing, well what he _thought_ he was doing; that he'd at least be on time to do it! But no, he's late. As usual. This was probably just another part of Irv's game; keeping her waiting. Little did he know, this was _not_ going to go his way. Not at all. Miranda had not been born yesterday or even last week. Nor had she fallen off a turnip truck.

But perhaps it was a good thing he was running behind. The last piece she needed to complete her chess set had yet to arrive. It would be here soon though. Miranda had no doubt about that. No doubt at all because that last chess piece could not be in more capable hands. _Yes_, everything was going to work out just exactly like it should.

Right in the middle of pouring herself yet another cup of coffee and imagining her victory, there was a knock at the door. Ah. _Finally_. Miranda smoothed her jacket out and checked herself in the mirror one last time before opening it. No need to look unpolished, after all.

"Hello, darling!" Miranda said in a light syrupy tone as she opened the door. It nearly made her sick but she smiled too and even kissed his cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it, Irving. There's plenty of coffee, I'm sure you're tired after your flight?" She always called him _Irving_ when she was trying to suck up. Or make him think she was sucking up. And okay, Miranda had this weird quirk about using everybody's proper name all the time, but him? God no. It was her own way of kicking him in the teeth.

_Irving_ smiled back and followed her into the room. "Oh, it was just fine. Just fine."

"That's wonderful."

For a minute or two more they continued to _chat_. Just like smiling at him, Miranda damn sure didn't enjoy chatting with him. She would sooner re-work an expense report. While he went on about his wife and her ill-advised spending habits and blah, blah, blah Miranda just kept to her coffee and felt around in her pocket one more time for her list. Soon enough he would get to the point and then Miranda could get to the _point_ of rocking his little tiny world right off its axis.

The moment came when Miranda saw his face change a little. It was always like this. Whenever he was about to 'throw the hammer down' on her, so to speak, he got this funny look on his face. It was like he was on the verge of vomiting and laughing all at the same time.

"Well, Miranda." Irv said before taking another sip of coffee. "There's a definite reason for my visit to Paris this year and I have to tell you, it is _not_ for the shows." He smirked and seemed to be waiting for a response from Miranda but she wasn't giving him one. Not yet. Sensing this, Irv cleared his throat and continued. "I think I'll just get right to the point here."

"Yes?" Miranda raised an eyebrow and felt for that piece of paper again in her pocket. She had to fight back a smile. God, this was going to be so much fun.

"Well…there's been a change in plans." Irv paused, probably to gauge her reaction and Miranda knew she would have to live up to her name. She couldn't let on that she already knew all about this little 'change in plans.'

"What exactly are you referring to, Irv?"

Irv said, "I'm referring to you," then shifted in his seat. "And to be honest, there's going to be more than just a change in _plans_. There's about to be a _lot_ of changes. In a _lot_ of things."

Still playing dumb, Miranda replied, "Oh? Do go on." Because hello, Miranda had all the time in the world, right? Forget that her last chess piece hadn't arrived yet. She was enjoying the hell out of this.

"Miranda, you've been at this a long time. A long time." Suddenly Irv got up from his seat and started pacing in front of the table.

What in the hell was he doing? Walking an imaginary plank, perhaps? Now wouldn't that be funny. Like that time in Key West when he'd accidently been knocked into the hotel pool by a waiter. Miranda nearly had a stroke trying not to laugh too hard.

Realizing that he had still not spoken again, she took her cue. This was too easy. "Why yes, Irv. I have."

Irv stopped his pacing then and stared her down. "And I keep telling you to tone it down, don't I? I keep telling you to get your budget in check, don't I? I keep telling you to be more reasonable, don't I? I keep telling you…_goddamnit_ Miranda; you're not good for this company any longer. You were in your day, I'll give you that much; but you just can't be worked with anymore! You're too much a _bitch_, if you really must know and the board is replacing you."

Well now…here we are. The truth. Straight from the horse's _ass_. Miranda just smiled at him and he blinked just like she knew he would. A smile from Miranda right now was obviously the last thing he expected, and rightly so. If she hadn't already known this was coming, she would be throwing him out the hotel window right now. Three seconds ago actually.

"Well?" He spat at her. "Have you got anything to say?"

"Oh, Irv." Miranda couldn't help herself now. She laughed. Honestly, it was more like a giggle and since she had no idea when she'd last _giggled_, she did it again. Yes, this was so much fun it was quite possibly illegal. But it was time to put an end to the giggling and the games. It was time to just flat out destroy this little bastard. Miranda had better things to do with her morning than this. "Sit down, _Irv_." Miranda turned serious and pointed to his empty seat. "There are few things I think you should know."

Irv sat. None too happy about it, but he sat. "Get on with it Miranda but let me just say, you're not talking your way out of this. Everything's already done. You're out."

"Am I?" Miranda finally pulled that little piece of paper out of her pocket, "I don't think so." She took her time unfolding it, savoring the look on his face as it changed from triumph to being on the verge of vomiting again. "Have a look at this, darling."

"What is it?" he said sharply, pulling his glasses out of coat pocket.

"That happens to be a very long list of all the people; all the designers, all the photographers, all of _anyone_ who matters that will leave Elias-Clarke behind in the dust. They'll all follow me where ever I go. After-all…I made these people, Irv. They owe everything to me. To _me_. Not Elias-Clarke. Not you. _Me_. They owe me."

There was silence. His face went a little pale and Miranda could see the beginnings of a sweat break out on his forehead. "I don't care." He blurted out all of the sudden and Miranda had to admit, it surprised her. In her mind's eye she had pictured that he would fold there. That he would give in right there and she wouldn't have to play this last move. And what's worse, that last chess piece she needed still hadn't arrived. _God_. Now she had to stall him and she definitely couldn't so any signs of panic.

"You don't?" Miranda said confidently and sipped from her coffee cup. It was cold now but that hardly matter at the moment. There would be plenty of time to have a hot cup of coffee later. At the luncheon.

"No. I don't. You're done. The board has already decided and I—"

A knock at the door startled him into silence and Miranda had to force herself not to run to answer it. The last piece to her chess set was here. Thank you God. "Excuse me, _Irving_." She turned the syrup factor back on for a moment. "I'm sure it's just my assistant. This shouldn't take long. While I slip outside why don't you think about all the reasons why you don't care…hm?" Miranda smirked and left him there with his mouth hanging open.

Soon enough Miranda was at the door and right on the other side of it was indeed her assistant; looking harried and…well…slightly undressed. "Andrea? Have you lost your mind?" Miranda hissed and pulled the girl further into the doorway.

"No!" She whispered. "I haven't. Is he here?"

"Yes, of course he is! Do you have it?" Miranda waved her hands franticly. "And why are you dressed like that?"

While digging around in her bag, Andrea answered her. "Well, Miranda…you said you thought there was more to it. And you were right." Andrea pulled out a mockup of a Runway cover and shoved it into her hands. "_Christian_. It's not just Jacqueline. It's Christian too. Just like I thought. I just had to get in there and look around."

"My…" This gave Miranda a whole new someone to be angry with. Christian Thompson? He couldn't write worth a damn!

"I don't know what she's thinking." Andrea broke in her thoughts. "I mean he can't write worth a damn, okay. Seriously have you read some of his stuff…writing I mean? It's sucks. A kindergartener could do better…now, here." Andrea said, shoving a large envelope into Miranda's hands as well. "That's everything. And I do mean everything."

Miranda looked up at her and Andrea's eyes shown bright. "Everything?" She questioned.

"Oh, yeah." Andrea smiled. "Everything. I told you he wouldn't let you down." Andrea smiled and turned to go.

"Wait." Miranda called out to her and she stopped in the middle of the hallway. "That still doesn't explain why you are dressed this way." Miranda waved a hand over her, knowing full well that there wasn't a shirt on underneath that jacket and everything else she had on was wrinkled beyond belief.

"Like I said, I had to find out."

"You mean you—"

"No!" Andrea nearly choked and came back toward Miranda. "I'm pretty sure that I slept in _my_ bed last night, Miranda. But trust me. I did a pretty good job of getting him drunk before I left him passed out in his room and he's _still_ just as drunk. What he _thinks_ happened and what _did_ happen are two completely different things."

"Hm…" Miranda tapped her lips with an index finger and surveyed Andrea's appearance one more time. Not to mention her face. She was telling the truth. "Thank you for this." Miranda held up the envelope and the mock-up. There would be time to discuss Andrea's _tactics_ later.

"You're welcome." Andrea smiled and turned toward her suite, leaving Miranda to complete her chess set. "Alright, _Irv_." Miranda greeting him with a smile again as she breezed back into the room. She literally felt like she was floating. Maybe she was. "Are you still going to tell me that you don't care? Are you still going to tell me you're willing to risk the future of Elias-Clarke all because you think I'm a bitch?"

He gasped at her use of the word 'bitch'. It made her smile. When need be, Miranda could curse like a sailor…worse than a sailor even.

"Come on, Irv. Find your words." Miranda teased him as she made herself comfortable at the table again and placed the cover mockup in front of him. "You see I already knew. I know what you're doing. Jacqueline…" Miranda tapped the cover with her index finger and kept her eyes locked on him. "And Christian. Oh yes, I know what you're doing."

"I…well…" Irv stumbled. "I still don't care. I want you out!" He yelled. "I want you gone! I'm sick of your shit, Miranda. Sick of it!"

"That makes two of us Irv, because I'm plenty sick of yours too. The only reason you're as tall as you are is because you're full of it! You're completely full of shit and you always have been!" Miranda grasped the mockup quickly and threw it half way across the room. It floated along then landed on the coffee table in front of the couch, almost knocking over a vase. "Every last bit of you." She continued. "It's pathetic really."

"I fucking hate you, Miranda. You're done. You hear me! Done!" Irv knocked over his coffee cup in an attempt to get up but Miranda reached out just in time and grabbed his arm and pulled.

"Sit down. Right now, Irv. I'm not done yet."

"Like hell you aren't."

"_Irv_. If you don't sit down right now your entire life will change in a way you can't even _imagine_." Miranda pulled at his arm again, harder this time and lowered her voice. "Sit. _Down_."

Irv sat and Miranda let go of him.

"Irv, I must say…I never would have pegged you as _reckless_. But…apparently, I don't know you as well as I think I do." Miranda let him sit there and stew as she slowly removed photos from the envelope one by one and placed them in neat little rows in front of him. By the time she laid the tenth photo down, he was barely breathing.

"How did you…where did you…" He gasped and tugged at his tie.

"Oh," Miranda smiled. "I have my ways. And as I said, you live far more recklessly than I ever imagined. You can't do _that_" She pointed downward at the array of photos, "and eventually not get bitten in the _ass_, Irv. Not these days."

"These are fake…you can't prove anything."

"Fake?" Miranda laughed. This just keeps getting better and better. "Fake? My dear Irv…these are not _fake_ and neither is this _man_." She pointed to the other man in the photos then picked one up to study it closer. "Let's see…this one is of you and _Bernie_…the night-time security Captain. You seem to be having a good bit of fun really."

And they were. Bernie had him backed against a wall and they were kissing…more like eating each other's faces. It was glorious…and a little unsettling to ones stomach. Because here Irv was all old and wrinkled, in Miranda's opinion, and then here was _Bernie_, all young and fit.

"And this one." Miranda picked up another one and studied it. "Here the happy couple is…kissing again. My, you two do love to kiss, don't you?" Miranda smirked at him and raised an eyebrow. "I wonder…do you kiss your wife like that? Something tells me you don't. Right, darling?"

"I'm going to kill you, Miranda." Irv growled and leaned forward.

"Oh, no you're not." Miranda picked up another picture and stuck it right in his face. "Because this picture is even better. Here you are…getting _fucked_. By Bernie. In a conference room."

She let Irv stare at the picture for a while to allow the gravity of his situation to sink in. Even though she was having the time of her life, Miranda really didn't want to have to give these to the media. She would of course, if she had to. But Miranda would like to think that Irv had a little more sense than to believe he could beat this.

For a long time Miranda had known Irv was anything but a faithful man. It really wasn't something to be in awe over. Plenty of people had affairs. That was just the way of things and even though that had never been something Miranda had dallied in; she didn't look down on anyone for their choices. Everyone had the right to ruin their lives in the best way they saw fit. Miranda simply chose to ruin her life by working herself to death.

"Now, where were we?" Miranda shook her head and continued on. Time was wasting. "Oh, right. Showing you more of the little displays you've been putting on in nearly every conference room, office and hallway of the building…right." Miranda slowly started to pick each picture up one-by-one and held them up in front of Irv. In each one he and Bernie were either kissing, fucking, or _fucking_. This one was her personal favorite. "I just love this one. I might have it framed." Irv was bent over his own desk, arms spread wide with hands gripping the edge. It was fabulous. "The symmetry here is just amazing."

"How did you get these?" He whispered.

"Oh, that's the best part. It would seem that you've recently wounded Bernie's poor little heart by calling things off…because you found a new toy." Miranda took one more photo out of the envelope. It was of an eighteen year old intern named Robert. "Now what's his name…Robert? Yes, _Robert_. Now that you've found Robert, you've kicked Bernie to the side. That's not very nice of you, Irv. After all…you and Bernie have been together…what? Three long years? _Three_ years? Really? He's quite upset….and security cameras…well let's just say that an upset lover and security cameras go hand-in-hand."

There was no answer from Irv so she kept going. "I, of course, would never let this photo see the light of day. I wouldn't want to tarnish Robert's reputation any further. God knows he's tarnished enough just by kissing you. And what did you do? To get him to be your new plaything? Hm? I would hate to imagine."

"What do you want?"

Ah, finally. "It's about time you asked, Irv. I was beginning to think I would have to bring up this little video I have." Miranda grinned and pulled a dvd out of the envelope. It was a video of a recent elevator encounter. And it was reportedly worth an Academy Award.

"Oh, my God." He whispered again and griped the end of the table. His face was going from white to blue. Glorious.

"Yes, indeed. You really should be more careful in elevators, darling. Now. As for what I want." Miranda began scooping up the photos and the dvd, placing them back in the envelope as she went on to tell Irv just exactly how he was going to get and _keep_ his ass out of trouble.

"For starters, you will not be replacing me with Jacqueline. I would hope that much is obvious. What you _will_ do though, is put her over JHI."

"What? What about Nigel?"

"Let me finish, _Irv_. We both know that the beginnings of these kinds of things are rough. There is a growth period and considerable kinks to work out. And often times…things fail in that process. Regardless of who is at the head of the table, hm? I don't want that to be Nigel. I want Nigel to be the one that will _swoop_ in in say…three…maybe four months to pick up the pieces and begin things anew. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Miranda finished with another smile.

"Yes," Irv coughed. "Yes, it would."

"But there's more."

"More?" He coughed again and jerked at his tie.

"Yes, _more_. You can't possibly think that's all I want." While he coughed again Miranda removed herself from the table and headed toward the coffee service. "I'm thinking that it's _you_ that's no longer good for the company, Irv. I'm thinking that it's _you_ that can't be worked with any longer. I'm thinking that it's _you_…that's too much of a _bitch_."

"What are you saying?"

Miranda finished pouring her coffee and looked over at him from the corner of her eye. "I mean Irv…that it's _you_ that's finished. Six months from now…you will step down. You will give your place up on the board and you will quietly go _away_."

"I won't!" He slammed his hand on the table. "You can't do that."

"What!" Miranda yelled right back at him, leaving her coffee in favor of racing over and literally slapping Irv right in the face with that precious envelope full of damning evidence of his stupidity. "Have you already forgotten what I can do to you? I _can_ do that. I can do anything! Or would you like me to keep looking?" For a moment she paused and searched his face. There…there it was. In his eyes. There was far more than Bernie. Far more than Robert. "I'm willing to bet that the Bernies and Roberts of the world would just love to come out and play with what's left of your reputation, Irv. I just—"

"Alright! Alright!...whatever you want. Just…don't do this. Don't give this to press."

"Don't give me a reason to."

"Fine…fine. Jacqueline will go to JHI. Nigel will follow…whenever you say. And in….six months…I'll step down. Fine."

"Good." Miranda sighed and reveled for a moment in her victory as she sat back down across from Irv with her coffee. "I think from here on out, things will work out just fine, darling. Just fine."

Mercifully, Miranda sat there quietly for a minute or two to allow him to gather himself. He was in quite a state after all and it wouldn't do to have him leave here only to pass out in the hallway. Finally though, finally he seemed to have regained some color, not to mention some life. As he left, Miranda started to give him a customary kiss on the cheek but thought better of it. That would likely kill him. And Miranda wasn't completely cruel…only a little bit.

Once he was out of the room, Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. It was done. She'd known all along she could pull it off; but now that it was done the real relief could set in and she could relax. Her career was saved…and so was Nigel's. It would have devastated her to see him crumble under the unorganized mess known as James Holt. Let James learn just how easy it was to screw things up. Then by the time Nigel got on the scene; James would be ready and willing to do whatever he was told just to save his own ass. It would be marvelous and Miranda would be sitting right there on her throne, happily watching every single moment of it.

But now…there was one last thing she needed to straighten out: Andrea.

"Andrea." Miranda knocked on her door and waited. Their suites connected so it wasn't like Miranda was left standing out in the hallway waiting; but even so—Miranda did not like to be kept waiting. Finally she heard a faint answer.

"Come in!"

So, Miranda went in prepared to get a few matters straighten out; but still didn't see the girl. "Andrea?"

"In here…hang on." Suddenly Andrea appeared from the bedroom area. She'd just taken a shower. "I'm sorry, is there something you needed? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes." Miranda waved a hand in the air as she leaned against the door. "Everything is fine. He's well and truly cooked. It's a shame I didn't video tape it."

Andrea laughed, still drying her hair with a towel. "Actually, that would have been pretty genius. Oh, well."

"Yes…oh well. Where is Bernie?"

"In a hotel. About four miles from here."

"Happily compensated?"

"Yes, and I told him you'd transfer the rest of the money to him in a few days. Honest to God he almost seemed like he didn't care. I think he's just happy to screw Irv…one last time."

"Yes…" Miranda couldn't help but chuckle and tapped the door lightly with her finger nails. "I'll have to make sure nothing happens to Robert though." Miranda turned serious again. "I don't want Irv to take anything out on him…he might be eighteen but he's just a boy."

"You're right. I doubt Irv would do anything; but you're right."

"And there's one more thing that needs sorting."

"I'm all ears." Andrea started to sit down in a chair to finished towel drying her hair; but Miranda shook her head.

"No," Miranda said sternly as she stepped away from the closed door. "Put the towel down and listen to me."

"Yes, Miranda." Andrea dutifully set the towel aside and waited for Miranda to continue.

"What you said earlier. About sleeping in your bed last night?" Miranda paused and pointed toward the door leading to the suites bedroom. "You were lying."

Andrea stood up and pulled her robe together a little tighter. "I wasn't lying. I slept in my bed last night."

"No. You did not." Miranda went to her and grabbed her hand forcefully. "You did not sleep in here last night." Quickly she pulled Andrea toward the bedroom door and flung it open to reveal a perfectly made bed. "See? Perfectly made. You did _not_ sleep in here."

"No…" Andrea said calmly yet ripped her hand away from Miranda's all at the same time. "I didn't sleep in _here_. But I did sleep in my bed."

"Oh?" Miranda snapped at her and grabbed her hand again, this time pulling her toward the door that led back into Miranda's suite.

"That's right. I slept in my bed last night."

"And what did you do when you got _out_ of _your_ bed so very early this morning, Andrea? Hm?" Midway through Miranda's suite she stopped and turned, almost coming nose to nose with the girl who now, finally, looked a little frightened. "Answer me?" The only answer Miranda got was a look of defiance. "Fine then." Quickly, Miranda pulled her along again and ripped the door to her own bedroom open. _Her_ bed was in no way perfectly made. In fact this entire room was a complete wreck. "This is where you slept last night. In _my_ bed!" Miranda pushed her to sit down on it roughly. "You were in here. Not in your room."

"That's right, Miranda." She said softly. "I did sleep in here."

"And you were in Christian's bed as well?" Miranda practically growled and hoped it worked. She didn't really think Andrea slept with Christian but she had to sure. Trusting someone wasn't Miranda's specialty.

"No, Miranda." Andrea paused and looked down at the floor, and then her eyes lifted and met Miranda's. "I did not sleep with Christian. I told you that." Slowly Andrea stood from the bed and came over to Miranda until she was standing right in front of her. "After I had dinner with him, I made sure he got back to his room. He tried for something…but…" Andrea kept her eyes fixed on Miranda as she started to undo the tie of her robe. "That wasn't what I wanted. He…wasn't what I wanted." The tie was on the floor now and Andrea slowly parted the robe, revealing her smooth skin that felt so good under Miranda's hands. Miranda bit back a whimper just from the sight of it.

"What did you want?"

"You…he passed out right before I would have had to kick him in the ass…and I left."

"And you came back here."

"Yes." Andrea let the robe slide down her shoulders and arms until it pooled on the floor at her feet.

Miranda couldn't help herself. She let her eyes travel not once but twice, up and down her body. Yet, as much as she wanted nothing more to stop talking all together, she had to know. "But this morning?"

Andrea reached up and put her hands on Miranda's shoulders then let them travel to the buttons on the front of her shirt. While she talked, Andrea began to unbutton Miranda's blouse. "This morning…before I went to the airport to _fetch_ Bernie, I went back to Christian's room. He was still out cold. Just like I left him last night. It was too much fun to pass up, especially when I saw the mockup." She leaned up a little and whispered in Miranda's ear. "After I finally had the proof I wanted…I just had to mess with him. He's going to think that he fucked me all night…" She bit Miranda's ear lobe and it made her gasp…and it made her wet. "But that's not true, is it?" Andrea pulled away a bit and finished unbuttoning Miranda blouse. "You fucked me all night, didn't you Miranda?"

"Yes…" Miranda breathed in sharply as she remembered. Somewhere between Andrea leaving and Andrea coming back last night, Miranda figured out that she really didn't give a fuck about Stephen. But what she did give a fuck about was Andrea. When the girl came back to her room later that evening, Miranda went to her and apologized for her earlier bitchy-ness…and somehow…well somehow they ended up in Miranda's bed.

"And you want to do it again, don't you?" Andrea kissed her lips just barely then pulled away again. It made Miranda weak in the knees.

"Yes…"

"Well you can…in a minute."

In a _minute_? Why should she have to wait? Miranda didn't like to wait so she pushed Andrea back quickly and onto the bed. "I'm not going to wait." Miranda kissed her hard, only to be pushed back and nearly rolled off the bed completely.

"That's not how you treat a lady, Miranda." Andrea pushed her back again when Miranda tried to get up and crawled on top of her, straddling her waist.

There could definitely be worse ways to be told 'no'. Miranda was certain of that. "Perhaps you should clue me in, darling."

"Oh, I'm about to." Suddenly Miranda was divested of not only her blouse, which was already unbuttoned, but now her bra was gone too. "First of all," Andrea moved down a little then started unbuttoning Miranda's slacks. She didn't know whether to be turned on, amused…both; but for right now all she could do was stare up at Andrea and try to remember to breathe. Not to mention listen to this lesson on how to treat a lady. "You don't accuse the woman you've just fucked senseless for hours on end…of sleeping with someone else immediately _afterwards_." Andrea ended her sentence by pulling Miranda's decorative belt roughly out of her slacks. "That's just not nice, Miranda. Especially since I was only trying to help you."

"I apologize." Miranda whispered and lightly ran her hands over the tops of Andrea's thighs.

"Good."

"Now…second lesson…." Andrea crawled off of Miranda completely and started pulling her slacks down and off…along with everything else. Miranda just laid there and held her breath the entire time. She wasn't used to actually wanting someone's hands on her body and frankly she hoped she never got used to it; this feeling that Andrea gave her.

Once she was just as naked as Andrea was, the girl climbed back on top of her. "The second lesson is that any bed…any bed that _I'm_ in with _you_…is _my_ bed. Any room that _I'm_ in…with _you_…is _my_ room. I won't be your plaything, Miranda. Something you can toss out of _your_ bed or _your_ room…I won't be that."

No, no, no… Miranda reached up and pulled Andrea down to her and looked her in the eye. "I would never treat you that way, Andrea. I wouldn't."

"But you think I fucked Christian Thompson." Andrea said coldly and tried to sit back up but Miranda didn't let her. Instead she rolled them over and trapped Andrea underneath her. And of course, Andrea tried to push her off again. This time Miranda resisted.

"Don't…stop, Andrea." Miranda finally grabbed her wrists and held her down. "Stop, darling…please. Listen to me." Once Andrea seemed to give in, Miranda kissed her into final submission and felt her relax then wrap her long and sexy legs around Miranda's waist. "That's better." Miranda smiled. "Andrea, I would never treat you that way and I honestly did not believe that you were with Christian. Believe me or not, but that's the truth. I might have implied it; but I certainly did not believe it."

At those words Andrea's expression softened and she whispered, "He wasn't who I wanted."

"And Stephen is not who I wanted…"

"Me? Just me? And not anyone else who was available…what if I hadn't been here?"

"Just you…and if you were not here then I would not be in the bed naked. If you were not here then…well Emily would have never gotten Bernie here on time and then—" Andrea startled Miranda by smacking her hard in the side. "Ouch!"

"Don't say Emily's name in _my_ bed."

"Oh…right…well, okay. I see your point." Miranda shuddered and that brought a smile to Andrea's face.

"Good…"

Miranda was prepared to go on explaining what she would or would not be doing based upon Andrea's absence but stalled when Andrea lifted her hand, which Miranda still held, and kissed it. There was a look in her eye that told Miranda she would do better to just keep her mouth shut. So she did. Actually Miranda had a pretty good idea that she would be doing a lot of whatever Andrea wanted to her to do from here on out.

"Now a minute ago you said something about…what was it?" Andrea smirked and moved Miranda's hand down her own body. Andrea's skin was just like Miranda remembered it and had always thought it would be. Soft. Giving. Warm. And she smelled so good. "Oh, yes…waiting? You didn't want to wait?"

"No…I didn't want to wait." Right then Miranda felt Andrea spread her legs wide, releasing Miranda from her firm grasp.

She smiled and said, "Be nicer next time and you won't have to." Then released Miranda's hand as well and let it travel. "Touch me, Miranda. I've been waiting all morning while _you_ were locked up in your room with _Irv_."

Miranda let the tips of her fingers slide down and through Andrea's drenched folds and over her hard clit before moving back down to thrust inside her, hard and deep. It took Andrea by surprise but then again it was supposed to. Miranda wanted to laugh a little but kept her face in check. Thrusting in and out, with three fingers now, she said, "Don't…say…Irv's name…in _your_ bed."

Andrea gasped, "Ours….oh, God. Our bed…" She started to keep talking but Miranda shut her up by fucking her harder, which she apparently loved, and kissed her until they were both practically out of oxygen. When Miranda finally let go of Andrea's mouth, she was promptly, but gently, pushed downward…ah, yes.

Keeping her three fingers buried deep, but completely still now, Miranda moved down in the bed and kissed over Andrea's thighs. She didn't get to kiss them for long before Andrea's hand was in her hair, begging Miranda to taste her, to suck her clit, to make her come. Miranda, of course, was more than happy to do so. Far more than happy to do so.

While Miranda kept her fingers still, Andrea slowly moved her hips and whimpered every time she forced Miranda deeper inside. That alone was enough to make Miranda come undone; just from the feeling of it. Just from the sound of Andrea. Suddenly, Andrea's pace quickened against her and Miranda worked Andrea's clit over in her mouth harder and faster while the girl, who now barely made any sense at all, cried out her name over and over. Miranda let that go on as long as she could, with Andrea screaming and moving faster and faster against Miranda's mouth and hand; but finally Miranda had to have the thing she wanted more than photo's and dvd's…even her career.

With one strategically planned move of her tongue, Miranda's head was locked in place by Andrea's strong thighs and the girl let out a piercing scream. Right as she began to rip apart Miranda started to move her hand again, getting faster with each thrust. Andrea grabbed at her and pulled until Miranda was level with her. She held Miranda's face in her hands and kissed her, filling Miranda up with her cries as she came again.

This time…this time Miranda let her ride it out slowly and when it was over, rolled them both onto their sides. Andrea buried her face in Miranda's neck and sank into her arms. For a while they were both quiet. Miranda held her tightly and stroked her back lazily; but eventually, Andrea moved from her hiding place in Miranda's neck and looked at her. Miranda looked back with concern but knew in an instant what was wrong.

"Neither of us is going anywhere, Andrea."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Miranda pushed back Andrea's hair and kissed her lightly. "I just know."

Andrea smiled and relaxed into Miranda again. "We should shower soon…the luncheon."

"Right. I need to call Nigel though."

"I'll get the water going while you make your phone call? How's that sound?"

"Hm…good." Miranda wanted to protest and keep Andrea right here in this bed for the rest of the day but knew that wasn't possible. Tonight…they would have more time tonight. And hopefully…hopefully they would have a lot more time than that. More time than Miranda had ever given to anything else.

They laid there in each other's for another ten minutes but finally Andrea rolled over to head toward the shower. Before she got up though, Miranda grabbed her arm. "Andrea?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for trusting me." Miranda could have made a long list of things that Andrea was trusting her with. She could have gone down the line of everything; beginning with _Runway_ and ending with _them_. She could have done that; but she didn't need to. Andrea already knew.

"I trust you, Miranda. You just have to trust me too."

"I do." Miranda nodded and kissed her briefly. "I do trust you."

"Good, now hurry up…" Andrea climbed off the bed and walked toward the bathroom. "I still need to pay your back for saying 'Emily' in _my_ bed." With that, she disappeared behind a closed door leaving Miranda behind to explain to Nigel that no, he wasn't getting his dream just yet. Hopefully he would trust her though, because this…this is was for the best. This was really how everything should happen.

THE END


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